


What Does Christmas Mean?

by Moonrose91



Series: Three Hundred Years of Being Forgotten (Mostly) [14]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Gen, Gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 09:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonrose91/pseuds/Moonrose91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack contemplates Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Does Christmas Mean?

Jack stares into the darkness of the South Pole's winter sky and contemplates Christmas.

He's always gotten a birthday present, but he's never gotten a Christmas present. They had always celebrated his birthday, and while, yes, Jack always gave Sandman a present (something small, something that wouldn't somehow burden the dream weaver), it had never been something that Jack had...thought about. He tapped his staff against the ground, noting the frost flowers that curled around, before he went back to staring into the sky, leaning on his staff, the North Wind curling around him.

The penguins were huddled together and the world was dark.

It was the time of the endless night at the South Pole and Jack closed his eyes as he took a deep breath.

What was Christmas?

Visions of children smiling up at their parents, gifts, whatever they could afford, given, and the joy, the wonder, on children's faces when a present from 'Father Christmas' or 'North' had left under their trees, or in their hands. Jack was not foolish, knowing the round tree fruits known as 'oranges' were more precious then any toy that could be given to the half-frozen children Jack saw on occasion, huddled in corners.

Jack kept from getting too close to them, knowing he could only make them cold.

And they were cold enough without his "help".

In those moments, Jack sometimes wished he had a thousand coats, just so he could drape one on each child he found, tuck it around them, and try to help them get warm.

But he didn't have a thousand coats.

He just had the one and it was frozen nearly all the way through, useless in keeping any child warm. It would soak them and make it worse and Jack turned his thoughts away from things he could not change.

The Wind whispered in his ears, trying to entice him into the air, but Jack only frowned a bit and shook his head. “What is Christmas?” he asked and the Wind huffed and tugged at his coat, his hair, trying to get him to forget about the silly holiday.

“What makes it special?” Jack inquired and began to walk across the ice, the Wind continuously tugging at him for his attention. “It can’t be the presents; people love it even when there is nothing under the tree,” Jack stated, bare feet skittering along the edge of the ice, creating more as he walked, adding a thicker layer which each step.

He then remembered.

People who were alone who either stared into the distance in rage or sadness, or those who pretended it was just any other day…were alone.

He swallowed thickly and felt the Wind buffet him.

“Family,” he whispered and the Wind _yanked_.

It hissed at him that he had family, he had Sandman and the Winds. Weren’t they enough?

Jack stood there and he stared out across the ice and snow of the endless night the held sway over this half of the world.

The North Wind settled around him, silent, and Jack stared at his staff.

“I don’t know,” Jack answered and the Wind curled around him.

He gripped his chest through his great coat and stared up at the moon above, though he was slowly growing dark. “I feel as if something is missing. As if…as if I should have something and I don’t,” Jack stated and Wind hummed lowly in his ears.

It was late, the North Wind soothed.

A nice sleep would help.

Jack didn’t want to sleep, but he didn’t want to be awake either.

He looked up at the Moon again and then with a sigh, let the North Wind lift him up.

Over they flew, the penguins huddling together their backs to the storm and the North Wind carefully tossed him into a snow bank. Jack laughed, because it escaped and it was fun. The North Wind ruffled his hair before curling around him and Jack closed his eyes.

Christmas is for family.

And Jack wondered if he had one, the thoughts chasing themselves into his sleep, which was untouched by both gold and darkness.


End file.
